Night Terrors
by wabisabija
Summary: When young children watch scary movies, their imaginations get the better of them.  What will Trunks Briefs do on a dark, stormy night after watching a horror film with Goten?  FAMILY GOODNESS INSIDE.  Doesn't really involve Goten.


Allllllllright! This idea was swimming around in my skull ever since I got reacquainted with Dragon Ball Z. So enjoy! Please **READ AND REVIEW.** I love feedback.

Oh, by the way, the movie Trunks watched with Goten was supposed to be Paranormal Activity. I don't care what anyone says, that movie is the scariest shit I've ever seen. I could not sleep for a WEEK. But go see it if you haven't. It's good. :P

* * *

><p>Well, this was just ridiculous.<p>

There he was, Trunks Briefs, sitting upright in bed, his bright, cerulean eyes carefully scanning the depths of the shadows in his room. It was only a few hours ago when Goten had left, taking that terrible horror flick with him. The poor boy was never really keen on horror movies.

The boy jolted, the tiny violet hairs on the back of his neck standing up on end. A small scratching noise came from somewhere in his room. Trunks clenched his bed sheets in his fists, grinding his teeth together. He was a Z fighter, for Dende's sake! He was stronger than most of the humans on this planet!

"It's nothing," he whispered to himself, annoyed. "Nothing at all."

The images from that stupid movie were still burned into his skull. Why did he let Goten bring the movie over, anyways? He knew it was going to be a bad idea. There was one specific scene that kept replaying in his mind: the woman was simply dragged out of bed by unseen hands. The camerawork had been so realistic… as if it were actually filmed by the woman's boyfriend himself! Trunks scowled at the edge of his bed suspiciously as he curled his knees up to his chest, just to be safe.

Rain pitter-pattered against the window pane, a sound that usually would lull the young warrior right to sleep. However, the constant rumbling of thunder kept him awake and on edge, only worsening the weird feeling he was getting.

There it was again! That scratching noise. He couldn't locate where it was coming from. Trunk's heart leaped into his throat, beating wildly as he frantically searched around his room. He could handle most physical foes… but the unseen was terrifying him.

_Crack._

With a yelp, the violet haired boy jumped out of bed and flew to his door, not risking the chance of placing his feet on the ground, where some ghostly being could drag him off by his ankles to his doom. His sweaty hands grappled at his doorknob, wrenching it open in record time. Not until he was halfway down the hall did he let his feet touch the ground. Almost automatically, his feet carried him to the room at the end of the hallway, where a welcoming glow of light spilled forth.

His parents' room.

Before rushing in, he forced himself to stop. Chewing on his fingernails anxiously, he though, _What will Dad say if I go running in there like a coward?_ His qualms were put to rest, however, when he realized that his father's ki was nowhere near the bedroom.

He sheepishly pulled his hand away from his nibbling mouth and took a small step into the room.

His mother sat upright, leaning against the extravagantly carved headboard, her nose buried in one of her romance novels. Her free hand absentmindedly twirled a short strand of blue hair, nearly the same shade as her eyes. The bedside lamp cast a warm glow over her flawless face. She glanced up and saw him sheepishly approach the bed.

"Trunks, honey," she began, her velvety voice instantly soothing his frazzled nerves. "What's up? I thought you were asleep an hour ago." She marked her page and set the book next to the lamp, never taking her concerned eyes off of her son.

He stood awkwardly next to the vacant side of the bed, the side where his father usually slept. He cast his eyes downward, suddenly very interested in the cream colored carpeting.

"I, uh…"

Trunks glanced up again and was struck by how truly pretty his mother was. She was probably the prettiest girl in the whole world, which is definitely saying a lot because girls have cooties.

She smiled sympathetically at him. "Did that movie scare you?"

Once again, Trunks was shocked that she had pinpointed his problem. His mother never failed at guessing what was bothering the young warrior. A mother's intuition, she had once called it. Yet he remained silent, his shame evident on his burning cheeks.

"C'mere, my little prince," his mother coaxed, patting the mattress beside her. He wasted no time. Trunks climbed over the edge of the bed and scuttled into her arms, nuzzling in her embrace.

"Where's Papa?" murmured Trunks, afraid that maybe his father had simply gone to the bathroom or something. It would have been a good idea if he had taken the time to pinpoint exactly where he had gone, but his fear had gotten the better of him. With a small grimace, he could almost hear his father roaring at him (lecturing, he called it) to never let his guard down. Fear makes a sloppy fighter.

His mother chuckled and stroked her son's violet locks. "Your father's still training. He should be finishing up any time now."

Of course. Trunks mentally kicked himself. Where _else_ would his father be?

As if on cue, the French doors that lead to the balcony flew open with a bang, followed by an ominous roll of thunder, startling the young warrior. His heart flew into his throat as he let out a strangled yelp. He felt his mother jerk as well, but she immediately relaxed as she realized who it was.

"Goodness, Vegeta, don't do that." she chastised, placing a hand on her chest. "You'll give me a heart attack."

"Hn…"

Trunks tried to blend in with his mother. The power of invisibility would have come in handy at that very moment. But in the meantime, maybe if concentrated hard enough, he would somehow melt into the royal blue comforter and escape the wrath that was certain to come.

Uh oh, he was caught.

Frozen in place, Trunks found himself staring right into the cold, mocking eyes of his father. _People tell me that I have his eyes,_ the young warrior thought vaguely, _but I don't look _that_ scary…_

"Trunks."

His father's calm tenor voice struck fear into his very heart. "Y-y-yes, Papa?"

"Vegeta," his mother interrupted, "go take a shower. You're all wet and sweaty."

Sharp black eyes met bright, blue ones. Trunks let out a sigh of relief as his father obediently stalked off into the bathroom.

"Well, that was surprisingly easy." his mother laughed, patting her son on the back. She resumed mussing with his hair and he felt his eyelids droop. The fear of the film _and_ his father had been lifted off of his shoulders, leaving an exhausted young boy. He leaned against his mother's lap and idly listened as his mother continued to softly speak to him about anything and everything. Her nails lightly scratching his scalp made him close his eyes and exhale comfortably, losing all sense of time and space until…

A small shift in the bed jerked him back to his senses, but he kept his eyes closed. Something was different. He was no longer laying against his mother's lap, but snuggled into the covers, curled against a warm body. But it wasn't his mother's body.

Trunks cautiously cracked one eye open and swallowed a surprised yelp. He realized that he was _still_ in his parents' bed _and_ the person he was nestled against was _his own father!_

_What is going on?_ he thought frantically. _What happens if he wakes up? Oh man, I'm not supposed to be here!_ Suddenly, his thoughts screeched to a halt. _Wait a second. What am I going on about? Here I am, not being yelled at or trained to death. _And _he didn't send me back to my room… The sun's already coming through the window, and we usually start training way before sunrise._

He glanced up at his father, who was sounds asleep. It was odd. Not a day had passed by where his father had slept in, yet here he was, snoozing the morning away. He remembered when Goten had once told him that one day, his brother, his parents and him just piled into a bed and napped. The whole day. Later on, they packed a huge dinner and had a picnic in the adjacent field. He didn't know why, but deep in his gut, Trunks felt as if something had changed between their family ever since Buu was defeated. Maybe his father's lenience is part of that change. A change for the better.

_Maybe we'll go for a picnic later…_

Somewhere behind him, his mother muttered something in her sleep and rolled over, causing the bed to rock slightly. Suddenly, Trunks was hyper aware of his father's sudden flare of ki. That meant he was awake.

He squeezed his eyes tightly shut as his father slowly climbed out of the bed. Cracking one eye open, Trunks watched his father roll his neck.

"Trunks,"

The boy froze. "Y-yes?"

"Let's go."

He didn't have to be told twice. In a matter of seconds, the young warrior streaked from the comforting warmth of the bed to his own cold room and threw on his training gi. Without a second thought, he raced out of the house and towards the back, where his father was already waiting by the Gravity Room.

"I'm ready!"

Trunks stood underneath his father's scrutinizing gaze. It seemed as if he were deep in thought, mulling over something unknown. After a moment, Trunks' mind once again wandered to the Son family picnic and a thought struck him. With a small smile, he began to speak.

"Papa, maybe later we could take a break from training and go on a picnic with Mom."

The elder warrior stared down at his son with a peculiar expression. Not quite condescending, but certainly not loving. Perhaps confusion? Or quite possibly consideration?

With a slow deliberate movement, he reached out a strong gloved hand towards Trunks. He automatically tensed, bracing himself for the worst. What was he going to do? Was this the beginning of training? A surprise spar?

No. Nothing of the sort. Trunks was shocked to find out that his father's hand was lightly resting on the top of his head, gently ruffling his violet locks.

"We'll see how your training goes." his father responded gruffly.

"Really?"

"We'll see."

* * *

><p>Yay. Done. Now hit that lil button down there and let me know what you think!<p> 


End file.
